


Atelophobia

by brunchywrites



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, M/M, Slow Burn, the sweet sweet magic angst, to add more later obviously
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2018-12-23 23:39:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12000339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brunchywrites/pseuds/brunchywrites
Summary: Atelophobianouna fear of imperfection, defects





	1. One

It had been the summer of his fifth year, leaving Hogwarts to go back home with his family. Something Draco stopped being excited for after his second year. If it were up to him he’d spend his every waking moment in Hogwarts. That wouldn’t be able to happen though, certainly not now when the Dark Lord had risen once again and was residing in the Manor. His father had seemed elated talking about it on the way back home from the train station. His mother meanwhile..well he knew what that look on her face meant. She probably wanted to speak out, to move on from everything that father had brought onto the family. But old habits died hard, it seemed. Draco understood though, the expectation part of it..

Though now the expectation had simply been to follow everything his father told him, and even then Draco felt as though he’d already failed that. Failed it when he met Harry Potter on the train and tried to befriend him. Of course he was rejected right away, now he was old enough to realize it was what he had said to Ron that put Harry off. There was no going back to the past, that day had simply marked a failure that led to more failures in Draco’s life. More disapproving looks, a lot of shouting about at home. Listening to his father go on for ages about how if he’d simply been more sociable Voldemort would’ve come back. 

It simply didn’t work like that, he only had realized that during his fourth year and kept it as a secret from both his mother and father. Truthfully, it had occurred to him what his beliefs were at the Quidditch World Cup. When he saw his father put on the cloak, and mask, and go off to terrorize the massive group of wizards there. Pureblood, half-blood, and mud-blood alike. There was something about seeing children, young children running away.. Terrified for their life. It had made Draco feel sick and from that point forward he simply hoped for The Dark Lord to never return. The chaos of that night was something he didn’t think he could forget. Partially because he knew his father was involved, partially because he knew a lot of other people knew his father was involved. It was close to embarrassing really, being probed about it. As much as Draco could gloat to his small circle of friends about it, no one else seemed to understand..

Though to be fair fourth year was almost like embarrassment hell for him, everyone made light of him being turned into a ferret by Professor Moody, the huge arse. Just thinking about him made Draco roll his eyes as he walked down the long, paved pathway to the entrance of the family Manor. Perhaps he deserved it- maybe but it was still absolute hell. Besides, it was child abuse and even Professor McGonagall knew that. 

______________________________________________________________

He took a deep breath to break himself from his thoughts, uncurling his fingers from the clenched fists they’d previously been in from his blast to the past on a two hour ride back home. The clack-clack-clack of his father’s cane rang throughout his ears and he looked forward, straightening his back as he followed his parents inside. 

Immediately, and there was no hiding it or trying to disguise it. The manor felt, bad, disturbed. It’d always felt that way since fifth year. Always cold, it felt like something could grab you if you turned around even the safest of corners. This was the house Draco had grown up in and it felt intrusive for all the dark energy to suddenly be there.That was why he wanted to be at Hogwarts instead. It was a lotto take in at first, still was. But he just tried to walk right upstairs to his room like he always did. 

Father caught his arm and he turned around. “Draco,” he began in a cool voice, too calm for how tired he looked. “Why don’t you join your mother and I? I think it's time for you to know what really goes on. It’s important for you to get involved now. You’re old enough to understand.”   
Draco stared at him quietly, every muscle in his body said that he didn’t want to do that. He didn’t want to get involved with what his father was involved in. What had dragged his family down over the years? He bit his lip in thought for a moment and glanced at his mom just briefly. She was frowning, Draco looked back at his father and clenched his fist again as he took a breath. A slight smirk appeared on his face. 

He knew his expectations more than anyone else could possibly know any expectation. Being raised knowing that eventually this would be his fate. To follow in his father’s dangerous footsteps- obeying every order he received. Sometimes Draco believed that if it weren’t for his father controlling his choices, he simply wouldn’t be Draco Malfoy. Just a shell. 

Draco nodded, backtracking and standing next to his father with his shoulders raised. Trying to look as confident as he probably should be. Or maybe more honored for the chance to be more involved. 

“Of course,” he closed his eyes and nodded, going back down the three steps he’d been able to make it up. Accepting his own defeat and what his father wanted for him. “In the study, right?” He asked, looking forward and at nothing else but the hallway ahead of him. 

His father’s hand rested on his shoulder heavily as they walked down the hall together. Distantly he could hear his mother’s quiet footsteps behind them as they moved through the maze-like house. Pictures moved slightly, following them with their eyes. 

“Like always, now look sharp, and confident.” Father’s voice suddenly lowered as he gave a side eye to the crack in the door. Draco very quietly adjusted his cloak, and his hair. Grooming was always important, even now when he felt his stomach crawling into his throat from his own anxiety over being in a room with a bunch of people who had served the Dark Lord. Who committed heinous crimes and never got punished, and terrorized innocent people. 

The door opened quietly and the immense feeling of dark magic only intensified, as he looked up he knew exactly why. Standing just at the front of the mantle, only dressed in black with skin as gray as ash. His back was to Draco but he knew immediately who he was. Fear crawled up his spine and he froze on the spot, only able to look straight at him. All of the noise in the room, Aunt Bellatrix’s laughing, the gruff tone of a man a little too drunk for his good. It all melted away from him and was replaced with ringing as the figure turned around. 

Red eyes peered back at him, a tight lipped grin forming on a noseless, grotesque face. Draco swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat down. Never in his life, despite how much his father absolutely raved about it.. Did he think he’d ever see Lord Voldemort in the flesh. He’d heard him in spirit, heard him give directions for his parents to follow when they thought he was asleep. Now there were strange people in his home, and the wizard who had plagued wizarding families for years was standing right ahead of him and he couldn’t hear what was going on. 

His father bent down and whispered something, it all came out as crunching to him. He wanted so badly to focus, his blood was pumping so hard. Then a voice broke out that he could hear, a cold hand against the side of his face. It felt dead, sickening and he felt a claw brush under his cheekbone. 

“So you’re the young Malfoy heir.” It was more of a statement than a question.

Every hair on Draco’s body stood on end when he heard the harsh coldness of the voice. It was similar to what he’d heard before, only more powerful, absolute. He fought not to take a breath to collect himself again. Instead he froze up, not daring to move under the dark wizard’s cold touch. 

“I am,” he found his voice at last, albeit a lot softer than he’d preferred it to be. But with a claw that close to his eye he didn’t want to risk, “The Malfoy heir,” Draco continued as Voldemort finally pulled away from him. 

He was examined closely and he simply stared back at him, trying to assert any sort of dominance or sense of pride. It failed though, he knew it did when he saw the grimace on the hollow man’s face. Draco felt his father put his hand on his shoulder and he looked up, meeting his eye as he nodded towards the door. His cue to leave, Draco took it and bowed respectfully before walking out of the dark study in silence. 

The door slammed shut behind him and he heard chatting begin, some laughing. Was it at him? He clenched his hands into tight fists and started walking upstairs again. The house was as quiet as ever, and his foot steps creaked on the stairs as he walked. Outside of the grand windows the late sun was peeking through. Mocking him with his bright light. Here he was, trapped in a dark house and there the sun was.. Shining like the day was beautiful. 

This day, was not beautiful. 

__________________________________________________________

Only a few weeks had passed, and Draco spent most of his time in his room, studying for his upcoming sixth year, nose practically buried in old books from the family library. He couldn’t bring himself to go back downstairs much at all. Maybe a few times to take part in a weekly group dinner. But he wouldn’t talk or so much as look anyone there in the eye. It was all too much, he felt like he would be drowning in the dark magic around him. 

With a quiet sigh he slammed the potions book shut and reached into his desk drawer, opening it and touching around till he felt cool metal touch his fingers. Carefully he pulled it out and gazed at it, wiping the dust away with his thumb. 

In the candlelight the little piece of metal didn’t look much, entirely green with the silver Prefect on it. He remembered receiving the pin in the owl with his supplies list for the year, when he got it he felt.. Prideful in a certain way. Like he’d done something good to deserve it, recognition for his soaring grades perhaps, and the long hours of study it took him to achieve those grades. 

His fingers gripped the pin tightly for a moment or so, then he put it back into the drawer. It wasn’t enough though, he could’ve done so much better as a prefect. If he hadn’t been so prideful, if he hadn’t been told to side with Umbridge. Maybe if he was smarter, more experienced he could’ve been better. 

Draco rose from the chair with a quiet groan, he didn’t know how long he’d just been sitting there reading that book, perhaps hours. He could hear chatter from downstairs, and it was loud.. Aggressive even. Merlin knows what could’ve happened but he had to find out. Had to be enough really, work harder and be smarter with the situation he was in. 

So he unlocked his door and walked out of his room, down the steps and into the main entry way. Everyone was standing there,arguing. As he scanned the room he quickly identified where Lord Voldemort and his mother were, the main source of the yelling was coming from them. 

He walked faster, brushing up against Greyback with a sneer, he could hear his heart pounding in his ears as he got closer to the Dark Lord, 

“What happened?” He asked, mostly to his mother but to his surprise it wasn’t her who answered at all, instead the lanky, shadow like figure that towered before her did. 

Red eyes were staring into his absolute soul it felt like, and a cruel grin spread over his snake-like face. Instinctively, Draco took several step backs and grasped for his wand, thankful for the habbit his father instilled in him since he got it. 

“Oh dear boy,” Voldemort spoke very slowly, looking as though at any second he’d erupt into absolute laughter, “Your father is in Azkaban because he got caught. He failed. And you know how horrible it is to fail.” His wretched hands curled around his own wand, long fingers trailing over the wood as he tapped it lightly. 

You know how horrible it is to fail, the words echoed through his head for a split second. Draco swallowed deeply, trying to keep the lump in his throat from forming. Malfoys did not fail, it had been something he knew since he was little, and his father failed. 

He wasn’t paying much to anything else at that point, the conversation didn’t reach his ears until someone snapped in front of him. 

“So you see, if you are your father's child you’ll continue with his work. It’s the only thing you can do, you are the man of your house now.” Draco took a very quiet step back at his words but the dark lord pursued, getting closer and closer as he went on with his angry rant. 

Out of the corner of his eye he could see his mother standing there, hands gripped into tight fists.. She knew her place in this situation and wasn’t going to break it. The expectation was his, he couldn’t fail it. Certainly not. 

The room suddenly feels colder as he fully takes in what he’s just been told. He has to continue his father’s work, 

“A death eater, you.. Want me to continue to be like him and take the mark n-” He cut himself off just as he was about to say he wouldn’t, it wasn’t his choice anymore he realized. It never would’ve been his choice, even if his father didn’t fail. 

There was a round of chuckles around the room, people were blocking exits now. Nothing was in his control anymore, he found himself looking up again. His eyes met with the dark lord’s again as a wand was raised in his direction. He remembered that his own was still in grasp but he couldn’t use it without getting into trouble. If he cast even the simplest of spells he’d jeopardize his

So he let the wand drop onto the floor as a hushed, crackle of a whisper broke the laughter in the room. 

“Crucio!”


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Draco finally came to his whole body ached from way at the top of his scalp to his toes. Just a soreness, he thought quietly.It would pass, eventually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this took a month because I hit a writing wall but I'm starting to pick back up on this!!! I didn't write exactly from the scenes that are directly from the book for the sake of the plot of this fic. Not everything is accurate either but that's the fun in it I feel like. To be honest the scene that's nearly a copy from the book is one of my least favorites in the series, so it was fun to put a spin on it for plot's sake.

When Draco finally came to his whole body ached from way at the top of his scalp to his toes. Just a soreness, he thought quietly.It would pass, eventually. 

Suddenly there were fingers on his forehead and his eyes shot open quickly and the pain settled in his left arm. It felt like it was burning and when he tried to lift it his wrist was grabbed. His eyes snapped open and he glared up at the man who grabbed him. 

“What’re you doing?” Draco’s voice was rocky, and his throat felt raw. It actually hurt to talk but knowing that Severus Snape was standing next to him (and still not letting go of his wrist) was more painful then anything. Mostly because he trusted him, mostly because he didn’t want to look at anyone. He could feel the shame covering him as the memories bounced back. 

His father was in Azkaban and was getting a trial soon, and there was no way he’d be let go this time. Two trials for similar crimes, there’d be too much of a link there. All that ran around his head for a few minutes before he toned back into the one-sided conversation being had with him. 

“.. Marked you when you passed out he gave you a task. Are you listening?” Snape’s voice snapped in the air and echoed off the walls. 

“No, I am imagining that your face is an entire brick wall and I’m just staring at it, wondering if I’m mad.” Draco rolled his eyes quietly, irritated mostly at his own self for a time. “Wait.. what task?” 

Snape described it in very quiet words to him, but Draco was reminded that Voldemort would tell him personally. 

How could he complete a task so great? There was no way, he couldn’t kill someone. But at the same time, everything was on the line, mostly his family’s honor. It was still a lot, he sat up fully and rolled his shoulders back, gazing down at his exposed left arm. The eyes of the skull bore into him, the eyes were so entirely hollow and blank. Staring right into his soul. 

___________________________________________________________

The last month of summer went by quickly, mostly because of his own stress and he couldn’t stand to take part in most of the meetings since getting his task, he was walking down the hallway to meet his mother to go to Diagon Alley. School was starting up within the next few days and shopping was needed and unfortunately, it was necessary for him to go too. ‘The sun will be good for you,’ she had said. It felt like the opposite for him, that was all he could think about as he fastened the button towards the collar of his robe and descended the stairs. 

Greyback popped out from one of the hallways and matched Draco’s pace before handing a black velvet box to him with an angry growl. 

“Get this fixed for me at Borgin and Burkes while you’re gone, don’t drop it, don’t fuck it up. Just get it fixed.” And the man stalked off. 

Draco, without looking at what was just handed to him just pocketed it without much thought, he’d put it at the top of his priority list to avoid getting bitten later on. Over the month he’d learn to not question anything from anyone and just accept whatever came into his direction, if not top what they wanted from him. That was always his priority since he’d been marked. His father might have failed miserably, but Draco refused himself a similar fate. 

His mother apparated the both of them onto Diagon Alley and they started a very silent order that had been built on five years of practice and more before that. Flourish and Blotts was as busy as ever before school started and Draco had to bite back a hiss every time someone nearly touched his left arm. It was bitterly sore still, what else did he expect? Not this. 

All of his thoughts were quiet as he looked at the list that mother held in her shaking, gloved hands. She tutted under her breath and folded it in her hands before going off. Much of the trip was quiet, normally he’d know his mother to shout some sort of insult back at the people who stared, an eloquent one that had people scratching their heads. This time she was just quiet as they gathered the required books Draco had already read last year from the school library. The transaction was just as quiet as it always was. 

The whispers of gossip started to wave around when they were back outside, Draco couldn’t hide his sneer but it wasn’t directed at anyone. Even when his family name was raked through the mud by the mouths of people who knew nothing about his family at all. 

Mother turned left sharply and he followed suit onto the road before speaking, 

“I’ve important business to do on Knockturn Alley, alone.” He looked up at her quietly as she stopped, then turned to him. 

“I’m not letting you do anything alone right now, with your father away it’s dangerous.” 

“Even when he was here it’s dangerous, I can do it alone. I just need to get something repaired beyond what reparo can do,” she started walking again and he followed her without being asked. He wondered if she would look behind if he did stop. 

Unfortunately, he couldn’t just stop walking, nor talk for that matter, 

“Mother, it’s important, if I’m expected to do this I can’t be on a leash until school. I need to be responsible and get this done alone.” He sighed through his nose at her worried glance to the ground. 

Her head snapped back up and her nose nearly touched the air, they neared the entrance to Madam Malkins. 

Draco looked down quietly as they walked inside of the too warm store, his chest tightened like it always did when he got measured for new school robes. He didn’t like people touching him, to begin with, and fittings involved too much touching.

A small discussion was had between his mother and Madam Malkin. Draco decided to stand on the stool in front of a set of mirrors like always when the old woman started doing measurements. Whenever she got close to his left arm he tried not to hiss. But far too many times she actually pressed into his arm with the measuring tape. He bit his lip and closed his eyes, 

“Can you please mind where you’re prodding?” He snapped quietly, or at least he thought he was quiet until he heard a loud, 

“Is that Malfoy?” 

What a time to be stuck under a relentless measuring tape, and have Potter and his two twits walk in and shout about. There were other people there, after all, it was quite rude and uncivilized. Disgracing, even to be in their presence. Old ideals he couldn’t shake off. 

Draco held his tongue and pretended to not hear them in the first place for a while. It felt like the measurements were taking ages and he did have to do what Greyback told him. It wasn’t like he needed to get an exactly fitted robe. 

“Enough, I’m finished. Normally you take half as many measurements.” He lifted his arms to get her away from him and stepped down, “I’m going to step out for some air, mother, give me ten minutes.” When he finished his piece he looked up and locked eyes with Potter, scowling at him before walking out, ignoring the way that the other boy’s eyes lingered. He could feel it, he could always feel it when people looked at him.

As he stepped back into streets he noticed that they weren’t as busy as earlier and it was easy to slip past any crowds that formed in front of small shops and a bar. He carefully dodged someone’s shoulder and turned down onto Knockturn Alley.

The atmosphere shifted immediately and the air was harder to breathe, dark magic filled every speck of the place and it held a certain sense of gloom and despair that could only be described as Knockturn. This part of the alley was one most people never trekked in their lives. For Draco, it was about as close to familiar as his own home. 

After ducking around a few beggars and dodging weary eyes he spotted the small shop, it's window’s illuminated with all sorts of dark items. Easily he spotted a cursed pen and actually snickered a little. 

He walked into Borgin and Burke’s and ducked as the stray voodoo doll flew to the door. Still cursed, he supposed as he walked to the counter. Draco didn’t hear the door shut behind him but took it as a trick from the cursed piece of rubbish.

“I need something to be repaired,” Draco spoke quietly, pulling the velvet box out of his pocket and setting it on the countertop, “As quickly as possible, it’s from Greyback.” 

Borgin examined the box and opened it carefully, a cruel grin coming upon his gaunt face. 

“Ahh, I see I see. Don’t want to get snapped at, do you? Wouldn’t that be cruel?” The box was snapped shut to exacerbate the point. 

Draco rolled his eyes and fought not to take a breath, Be professional. He repeated over and over again in his head until it stuck. If he was filling in the role of his father since he failed, he’d act like his father but, better. 

“He’ll be coming in to check on its progress, keep it safe,” he made his voice sharper and more clear. He reminded himself of his father, stone cold and crystalline cut in the way he spoke and tried to act. 

Borgin stiffened up slightly at his words and nodded. The mood changed, it went from slightly cocky and airy to stark and stiff silence. Draco narrowed his gaze at him, inside he was beaming through. He got what he wanted without having to ask twice or repeat the question. He was taken seriously, very seriously. It made him feel somewhat prideful but at the same time, a wave of shame went down his spine cruelly. 

“And get it done as soon as physically possible.” He turned sharply on his heel, shivering slightly as he made his way out of the eerie store. 

 

The door had still been left open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hmu on tumblr if you want @coffeeverre.tumblr.com the next chapter might be out sooner than this second one came out because I remembered my directioning. Whoootttt


End file.
